Page 56 of Buried in Blood

“For what he’s turned you into.”

She steps back, eyes narrowing. “Damien said you’d say things like that. That you’d try to twist everything.”

“And did he also say he’d put a collar on your neck the second you stopped agreeing with him?”

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t have to.

Because deep down, even in that bright little smile and soft voice, she knows I’m right.

But it won’t matter.

Because belief is a powerful drug.

And she’s addicted to him.

* * *

The door creaks open again, and I don’t flinch.

I’ve been waiting.

Waiting for the monster to return.

Damien steps in like he owns the oxygen in the room. Hands in his pockets. Calm. Relaxed. Like he didn’t just leave me alone with a ghost wearing Destiny’s face.

He shuts the door behind him with a softclick, and for a moment, all I hear is the buzz of the light overhead and my own pulse, steady and furious.

“You two get acquainted?” he asks, tone light. Casual.

Like we shared tea. Like this isn’t a fucking dungeon.

“Fuck you,” I mutter.

He grins and saunters closer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I sit up straighter in the chair, every muscle screaming, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me fold. Not again.

He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Ask me something.”

“What?”

“You’ve been waiting for answers, haven’t you? So ask.”

I study him. “Where the Hell is Harmony?”

His brow lifts, amused. “Of course, that’s your first question.”

“You’re obsessed with her,” I growl. “She’s the new Destiny, isn’t she?”

Something flickers behind his eyes.

He doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he steps away from the wall and crouches in front of me, expression unreadable.

“She’s not Destiny,” he says quietly. “But… I got attached.”